


Joey Drew, What Did You Do? (Wally's Story)

by Abreebee123



Series: Joey Drew, What Did You Do? [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: About as Much as my Other Story, Basically Batim from Wally's POV, But I Highly Suggest Reading 'Sammy's Story' First, Gen, It DOES Veer Off-Canon a Little, Not Technically a Sequel, Right Now He's Just a Clueless Janitor, Tags May Change, Wally is ALMOST as Nosy as Norman, Wally is the Boris You Meet in Ch 2, Which Doesn't End Up Being a Good Thing, later anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-06 15:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20509211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abreebee123/pseuds/Abreebee123
Summary: Wally Franks is a janitor at Joey Drew Studios. Everything is rather normal, as normal as it can be for a place that has a giant, bulky 'Ink Machine' that causes ink to get everywhere. But even  with increasingly bad work conditions, a boss that seemed to be losing his mind more and more with each passing day, and people quitting by the dozen, Wally stuck around and didn't ask questions. After all, Joey signs the checks. But as things start taking an even stranger and more dangerous turn, Wally begins to regret not getting outta there sooner.(DISCONTINUED)





	1. Just Another Ink Spill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read the story that comes before this one, Sammy's Story, I highly suggest go checking it out. This technically isn't a sequel, but it'll make much more sense if you read that one first. Here's a handy little link for you: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818949
> 
> Again, highly suggest reading that one first. Enjoy!

Wally dipped his dirty mop into his bucket, swishing it around for a few seconds before pulling it out and continuing to mop up the ink on the floor. The leak had been fixed earlier, which just left the clean up. Which was his job, as the janitor at Joey Drew Studios. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve with a groan. The ink was nearly cleaned up now, though it had taken him the better part of an hour to take care of the massive spill. A pipe in the ceiling had begun to leak, going unnoticed until a part of the ceiling collapsed under the weight of 20 gallons of the stuff.

The things he’d do for a paycheck. 

Wally picked up his bucket and carried it to the bathroom. He dumped the inky water (which was more ink than actually water) into the sink. Swinging the bucket as he walked, he made his way to the janitor closet, pulled his key ring from his pocket and unlocked it, putting the mop and bucket inside. He noticed a blank tape recorder sitting on a shelf, with a slip of paper that said _ -Susie <3 _ on it. He smiled. That day, Susie Campbell, a voice actress, had told everyone that talking into a tape recorder would relieve stress in that cheerful, bubbly way of hers. She’d always been nice to Wally, but then again she was nice to everyone. He left it in his closet for safe keeping for now. He didn’t have anything much to talk about, but he’d use it if he did. Why not?

As he shut the closet, there was a loud rumble. It seemed to vibrate from the pipes. Wally knew exactly what it was. Anyone who’d worked there longer than a week did. Too much pressure building up. He stepped out of the general vicinity of any pipes in the area as he glanced around to see which would burst. 

He heard an angry shout coming from the band room. Another sound that he recognized immediately, as would anyone else. 

Sammy always had a knack for finding himself right under the next pipe burst. 

Wally strolled toward the band room. No doubt he would have to clean up whatever spill was there. He could only hope it wasn’t too bad. He actually wanted to go home tonight. As Wally was about to open the door to the band room, said door flew open and nearly hit him in the face. He jumped backward with a yelp. 

“Hey, watch i-” He froze as he saw who he was talking to. It was Sammy, of course, but one could barely tell. He was drenched head to toe in ink, hardly recognizable. But who could miss that trademark scowl? He looked absolutely ridiculous, hair plastered to his forehead, ink dripping and pooling around his feet. The glare he was giving Wally made him look even more so.

Wally burst out laughing. 

“What happened to _ you _?” He snickered. 

“What does it look like? Pipe burst in that room in the back of the band room, where I just so happened to be working at the moment. Go get it cleaned up, would you? And find Thomas while you’re at it so he can fix that stupid pipe.” Sammy snapped. The laughter died in his throat. Clearly it wasn’t a good idea to taunt the guy when he was this pissed.

“Yep, right away, Sammy.” Wally muttered, eyes on the floor. 

“I’m outta here…” he said under his breath. He turned the way he’d come and started looking for Thomas. 

Geez, Sammy needed to lighten up a little. Sure, he was covered in ink, but no need to go off the handle at him like that. Then again, it usually didn’t matter whether Sammy was covered in ink or not, he was always like that. 

“Thomas!” Wally called to the older man, who was standing on a stepladder and facing away from him. He turned, his light brown hair streaked with grey, rough stubble growing on his chin. 

“What, Wally?” He asked gruffly, his hazel eyes narrowing. 

“I ain't got time to mess around.”

“Another pipe burst, and Sammy’s pissed about it.” Wally said quickly. Thomas rolled his eyes. 

“It sounds bad,” Wally insisted.

“Fine, show me.” Thomas sighed, putting down the wrench he’d been using to tighten the bolts on a pipe into place. Wally walked back to the band room, Thomas following right behind. As Wally made his way toward the band storage room, where Sammy had said the leak was, Thomas pushed in front of him and went inside. Wally stayed in the band room. He wasn’t wearing rain boots like Thomas was, although that was a pretty smart idea. 

Thomas let out a low whistle. 

“If you got anything else to do before heading home, get it done and leave. It’s gonna take me all night to fix this, so there’s no use for you to stick around.” He called.

“Are ya kidding?” It had to be _ really _ bad. 

“What do you think?” Thomas asked sarcastically. They both knew he wasn’t the type to kid around. 

“Geez, keep this up and ya might as well change your last name to Lawrence,” Wally said, although Thomas didn’t hear him over the trickle of running ink.

Wally turned to leave. He didn’t have anything else to do, so he might as well be outta there. He adjusted his cap and walked to the stairs which lead to the exit. One of the pipes was creaking ominously, so Wally wasted no time scurrying down the stairs and out the door. However as he stepped into the cool night air, he slammed the door a little harder than he meant to and heard the sound of a pipe bursting.

_ Oops, was that MY fault? I hope nobody tells Sammy... _


	2. Chocolate Cake

Wally walked down the hallway towards his closet. He’d been sweeping up one of the offices, but forgot his dustpan. 

He tried to turn the handle of the closest. Locked. He reached into his pocket for his keys, only to come up empty-handed.

“Dagnabbit, I just had them!” Wally groaned. 

He eyed the tape recorder, which he’d taken out of his closet and propped against the wall when he’d grabbed his broom. He was going to find somewhere else to put it, because the closet was too full of his cleaning supplies and whatnot. 

“Can’t hurt,” he muttered. He squatted down and pressed the button.

_ So I go to get my dustpan from the hall closet, and guess what? I can’t find my stupid keys. It’s like they disappeared into thin air or somethin’. All I can think is that they musta fallen into one of the trash bins as I was making my rounds last week. I just hope nobody tells Sammy, because if he finds out I lost my keys again, I’m outta here! _

Click. He switched it off and rubbed his eyes. He felt a  _ little _ better, so maybe Susie had been onto something? 

“Now I have to retrace my steps and waste a buncha time…” he grumbled to himself sulkily. Ok, so maybe he wasn’t feeling  _ that _ much better. He peered into the trash bins as he walked through the Music Department. Finally, he found them. Fallen into a trash bin, as he suspected. It’d happened more than once. He grabbed them, holding them tightly in one hand as he made his way back to the closet.

After Wally had his dustpan and the keys were securely in his pocket, he went back to where he’d been sweeping. He finished that room, then continued. It took him less than an hour to finish sweeping the Animation, Art, and Music Departments. Which was impressive, considering the size of the levels. Too bad no one was around to notice. 

Wally returned his broom to the closet, being extra careful to keep his keys from getting lost again, or worse, getting locked in the closet. As he did so, he spotted something slightly out of place in Sammy’s office. It was something sitting on his chair. He turned away from his closet to get a better look. And as he realized what it was, his mouth began to water.

~~~

Wally licked the last of the delicious frosting off his fingers. But as he did so, he started to panic. He shoved the chair in and practically sprinted to the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah it's short, I know. I was half-asleep at like 3 am and decided I needed write something. At least I waited for a decent time of day to actually post it.


	3. To Appease The Gods, Joey Says

Wally stood next to his closet, watching Sammy and Susie talk through the window. Sammy was leaning back in his chair, a relaxed smile on his face, while Susie was standing next to him, her hands folded behind her back. Susie was one of the only people at the studio that could coax a smile out of the grouchy music director. As a matter of fact, a lot of people thought they were a couple, or at least had something going on between them. Wally would have thought that too, if he didn’t know better. He knew that Sammy had a girlfriend. Not because Sammy told him, but because Wally was, well, nosy. Sammy had a picture of her in the drawer of the desk in the band room closet where he often worked. As they talked, he could tell Susie laughed a few times as they talked, but the office was soundproof. So as long as they didn’t come out, Wally could do what he planned to without anyone hearing. 

Wally unlocked his closet and grabbed another tape recorder from it. He had started keeping a few just in case. He glanced both ways down the hall before starting the recording. 

_ So it turns out it’s my lucky day! I was cleanin’ one of the offices around 2 am last night, and what do ya think I find on one of the chairs? A big freaking chocolate cake! Just sittin’ there! Practically yelling my name! You know, I work hard. I earn my pay, every darn dollar. But you know what this company’s missin’? Little benefitting perks. And this cake here? It’s a perk! … Hopefully no one finds out what I’ve done, because if they did, I could tell you what would happen. I’m outta here! _

He put the tape recorder back into his closet right on top of the other one, then shoved some cleaning supplies in front of them. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he closed the closet and saw Joey Drew standing right behind the door. 

With a high-pitched shriek that would have impressed a 5-year-old girl, Wally jumped about 4 feet in the air. Joey just looked mildly amused. 

“You alright, Wally?” He asked, the corner of his mouth curving into a slight smirk. 

“Wha- I- but-” He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to formulate a response. Finally, he just nodded. 

“Glad to hear it,” Joey laughed, clapping Wally on the shoulder. Then he held out a sheet of paper and continued.

“Figured since I was passing by I might as well give you the memo personally.” He said. Wally took the paper from him and skimmed it quickly. It started with wishing the employees Happy Holidays, talking about how great that year had been, yada yada and all that. However, he snapped to attention when the words took a bit of a strange turn.

“Why do ya need something from our work stations?” He asked, looking up from the page in his hands. Joey nodded toward it, as though telling him to keep reading. He turned his eyes downward again.

“To… appease the gods. Are you serious right now?” 

“A hundred percent.” Joey deadpanned. 

“Well, I, uh…” Wally turned quickly, fumbling with his keys and opening the closet. He grabbed the closest thing, which happened to be a wrench. Turning back to Joey, he held it out.

“Here, will this work?” 

“Is it the essence of who you are? What makes you, you?” Joey raised an eyebrow. 

“Yep!” Wally said with all the sincerity he could muster. Usually it was better to just go along with whatever crazy stuff was going on in Joey’s head. Joey grinned at him and grabbed the wrench. 

“Then thank you, Wally. This is perfect!” He clapped Wally on the shoulder once more before turning and walking down the hall, whistling as he did so. Wally stood there and watched him leave for a full minute before slowly turning back to the closet. 

“Oh boy,” he said under his breath, reaching for another tape recorder.


	4. Friends and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of this chapter should be 'Angst.' Dunno if I went overboard. I really want to hear your guy's feedback, whether it's compliments or criticism. Either way, I love reading your comments!

Wally slowly stepped closer to the doorway, gripping his broom tightly. A muffled sobbing came from the room. He wasn’t sure why, but the sound sent dread coursing through him. It was after hours, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here. Rather than call out, he crept closer and peered through the doorway. Sitting in the corner was a woman. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees, head buried in her arms, but there was no mistaking her bright, curly, blonde hair for anyone else. 

“Susie?” He asked hesitantly. She gasped, looking up at him. Her eyes were red and puffy, her mascara running, her makeup smudged. She wiped her tears with the back of her arm.

“I-I’m sorry, Wally.” She mumbled. 

“I didn’t know anyone else was here.” She rubbed her eyes as she started to get up, her breathing still shaky. 

“Geez Susie, you alright? What happened?” He asked. At that, she looked as though she might burst into tears again.

“I… Joey replaced me.” She blurted, her voice breaking. She buried her face in her hands to stifle the sobs that followed. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he’d already known, and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“But why though?! Your Alice Angel voice is perfect, and you’re one of the nicest people here!” He exclaimed.

“I don’t know,” she sniffed. 

“Joey said it wasn’t a- a mistake. Then he said to stop by his office tomorrow. Said he had an opportunity for me.” Her tone of voice changed very unexpectedly, so suddenly that Wally stepped backward in surprise. 

“If he thinks he can double cross an ANGEL and get away with it, he’s got another thing coming. Alice… she doesn’t like liars.” 

“Uh, no. I don’t imagine she does. I doubt anyone likes liars,” he placated, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly build up in the small room. 

“Just be careful, ‘ite? An’ don’t let that role go to your head too much. Won’t be much room up there for anything else with your big ego hogging all the space!” He said jokingly. As usual, he knew just the thing to say.

“Oh pshh!” She snorted. 

“Me? Ego?” 

“Well sure.” Wally shrugged.

“Ya did just call yourself an angel.” She paused for a moment, then smiled. 

“I did, didn’t I? Sheesh.” She shook her head.

“Today hasn’t exactly been easy, must be all the stress getting to me.”

“She does have a point!” Wally called to an imaginary audience. 

“Now, whatever should this lovely lady do to relieve some of that stress?” Wally paused to let Susie answer. She snorted again, rolling her eyes.

“Have a drink?” 

“Aaaand?” 

“...Get a good night’s sleep?” Wally nodded.

“Aaaaaaaaaaand?” When Susie didn’t answer for a moment, Wally answered for her.

“And let me walk this lovely lady to the door so she can find said drink?” She laughed and shook her head, holding out her elbow for Wally to take.

“Sure.” 

“‘Tis an honor, my lady.” He bowed deeply, then linked arms with her and started to the exit. When they reached it, Wally turned to her.

“Au revoir, Senorita, y boa noite.” He bowed again. 

“Wally, that’s- actually, I don’t know how many different languages that is. How many do you know?” Wally put a finger to his lips.

“I’ll never tell.” He opened the door.

“After you, Mademoiselle.” She stepped outside into the frigid night air, Wally following and closing and locking the door. 

“My car is over there,” Susie said. Wally walked over with her and she got in. 

“Thanks for cheering me up, Wally.” He grinned.

“It’s what I do! ‘Night Susie, and… take care of yourself, ‘ite?” He said seriously. She nodded. “Well, I’m outta here!”

  


~~~

Wally had waited until after Susie left to start walking home. He didn’t want her to offer him a ride. She had enough on her plate. But at least he’d been able to cheer her up. It really was what he did, no matter the situation or the person. A lot of times just being a total goofball did the trick, like tonight. He sighed, his breath crystallizing in the winter air. He usually didn’t mind the long walk home, the only real issue was the cold. The wind cut through his thin jacket. He really needed a new one. 

Wally made his way to a cramped apartment building squeezed between more cramped apartment buildings. He moved hurried through the dimly-lit stairwell to the second floor and down a hallway with similar lighting. Very little of it. Wally didn’t like the dark, it made him feel like he was suffocating. He breathed a sigh of relief when he came to the right door. Opening it slowly and quietly, he stepped inside. 

Immediately, a force similar to a freight train rammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground before he could even close the door behind him. 

“Bear!” He croaked, hardly able to speak with the weight on his chest and long wet tongue licking his face. A single light bulb flickered to life, illuminating the Bernese Mountain Dog that had barreled into Wally. 

“Wally’s home!” A voice yelled. Bear finally got off so he could move. Andrew, Wally’s eight year old brother, was running towards him. At that, the rest of his siblings came streaming out of the bedroom. Wally got off the floor in time to wrap Andrew up in a hug, most of the others joining in as well. 

“Hey, I missed you guys! Wait a minute…” Wally stepped backwards with an exaggerated frown, staring at the clock on the wall. 

“If I’m not mistaken, and I’m usually not, it is wayyyy past your guy’s bedtime!” 

“But we’re not tired!” Whined Zoey. She was six, the youngest of all of them.

“What are you all doin’ up, anyway? It’s after midnight! You guys got school in the mornin’!” 

“No we don’t! It’s Christmas break! And we were waiting for you!” Exclaimed Andrew excitedly, bouncing up and down.  
“You-” Wally tapped him on the nose. “Are way too hyper for this time of night.” Emma, the second oldest and a few years younger than him, stepped forward, looking at Wally with a melancholy expression. Wally’s face fell. 

“How’s Mom?” He asked quietly. She shook her head, glancing toward the kids, as though to say _ not here _. 

“Alright guys, bedtime!” He received several groans in response. 

“C’mon!” He stood next to the door to the shared bedroom as they began to file it, naming each of them as they went in.

“Andrew, Helen, Zoey, James, Will, Betty. Now get to bed, all of ya little hooligans!” He shut the door most of the way, leaving it cracked open, then turned back to Emma. 

“What is it? How is she?” He allowed part of him to hope, to remain optimistic that it was good news and maybe she just didn’t want to get the kid’s hopes up, but he practically deflated when Emma just looked down at the floorboards.

“She’s not getting better, Wally.” 

“She must be, she _ has _ to be.” He insisted.

“Wally, she’s getting _ worse. _” Wally turned away from his sister, hands in his pockets so she wouldn’t see how tightly they were clenched. 

“She’s been asking for you.” 

“I know,” he snapped, much harsher than necessary. 

“I know,” he repeated, softer. No more words were spoken between them. There was nothing to say. Emma knew the reason why Wally didn’t spend enough time with her, why he spent so much time working. He couldn’t bare to see her in the state she was in. And Wally knew it was selfish, which only added to his guilt. He was taking it harder than anyone. 

Wally let out the breath he’d been holding. 

“You get to bed too, alright? I’m gonna go see how she’s doin’.” His sister smiled softly and nodded.

“And get them to bed at a decent time from now on, ‘kay? I can’t do everything.” He smiled back. As Emma went into the bedroom, Wally turned and glanced at Bear, who’d been laying on the couch, head on the armrest. His tail started wagging as Wally walked over. He sighed, scratching Bear on the head.

“What am I gonna do, big guy? Hm?” Bear just looked up at him, smiling a doggy smile. Sometimes he envied the dog. He didn’t have to deal with the responsibilities that come with a sick mother, seven siblings, and a job. 

“Ya know, the only reason we keep you around is ‘cuz the kids love you so much. Dog food ain’t exactly cheap these days.” Bear’s ears went down, his tail stopping.

“Ah, ya know I’m just foolin’.” Wally relented, scratching him behind both ears. 

“Now, go keep an eye on them, ‘kay?” Bear got up from the couch and pushed open the bedroom door with his nose, then disappeared. Sometimes he’d swear the dog could understand him. But didn’t most people with dogs say that? He sighed inwardly. He was stalling.

Finally, he turned toward the hallway which lead into his mother’s room. Starting slowly down the hallway, he felt his heartbeat speed up. Finally, he reached the door and slowly turned the handle. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach, and that feeling was dread. He knew he was being a coward. It was just his mother, for goodness sake. But every time he saw her, it reminded him of how close to death she was. It forced him to face reality. He took a deep breath.

Finally, he pushed the door open and stepped into the dim room. Immediately he was hit by the stench of vomit and other bodily waste. There, sprawled out across the bed, was his mother. Her skin was pale and shone with sweat. Her eyes were sunken in her skull, and her breathing was ragged and shallow. It was like a punch to the gut. He took a shaky breath as he stepped closer. The floorboards creaked loudly under his weight. His mother’s eyes fluttered open.

“Who’s there?” She croaked. Wally swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped to her bedside. 

“It’s me, Wally.” He managed. A look of recognition crossed her face.

“Yes, Wally. Where have you been, dear?”

“I’ve been busy working, Ma.” He said. His mother didn’t seem to notice the guilty look on his face. At least she recognized him at all.

“I’m sorry, baby.” She said softly.

“Sorry for what?” 

“Sorry that you can’t go to college like you wanted.”

“Oh, it’s ok. Really. I’m not all that academic anyhow.” He said this jokingly, though it was strained.

“You’re smarter than you let on. You just hide it under all that goofing off.” She sighed, closing her eyes. She remained still for a few minutes, breathing softly. Wally stood there, watching her chest rise and fall. He reached out to tuck some hair behind her ear. How could someone so full of life end up like this so quickly? She opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. 

“I’m too sick to work,” she said softly.

“It’s okay-”

“No, it isn’t. Wally’s been working his ass off and where have _ you _ been, Robert?” She spat. Wally stepped backward in surprise for two reasons. First, he’d never heard his mother swear. Ever. She hated foul language with a passion, so both out of habit and respect for her, Wally never swore either. Secondly, because she thought he was Robert, his father. He’d died a little over a year ago from pneumonia, just a bit before her own health started to decline. 

“Where have you been all this time?”

“I-” Wally hesitated, unsure of what to say. Then she frowned.

“You don’t look like my husband. Who are you?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Ma, I’m Wally. Your son.” 

“Nonsense. I don’t have any kids. Now get out of here or I’ll have my husband call the police! And don’t call me that, my name is Elizebeth!” Her voice rose with every word. Wally cringed.

“Of course Ma’am, I’ll leave.”

“I don’t want to see your filthy face around here again!” She all but screamed as Wally slipped out the door, closing it behind him. 

Emma was sitting on the couch, petting Bear. She’d obviously heard the yelling through the thin walls. Wally sat down next to her, angling slightly away so she wouldn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes. But she knew. Emma placed a hand on his shoulder. They sat like that for a while, comforting each other with their presence


	5. He Had Heard Everything

_Man, these people need to lighten up._ Wally thought. _I mean sure. They got plenty of reason to be grouchy, but if your job is to make people laugh, you’d think you’d be a little more cheery._ _I miss Susie._

Wally sighed as he cleaned up yet another ink spill. The sixth one that day. He’d also helped Thomas fix the elevator twice, and Wally swore he and Sammy were related somehow. It was all getting rather tedious. Not to mention one of the studio’s founders had quit. Henry. He seemed like a nice enough man, from what Wally had heard. They hadn’t talked much. Everyone was pretty shocked over his quitting, though more people had quit in the last few weeks than Wally bothered to count. Loads of people had been hired as well, though he didn’t mind. He mostly just swept the floors and such. Which was what he was doing at the moment, now that mostly everyone had left. He always swept starting at the top and working his way down the levels. He had just stepped into the toy factory when someone he knew well greeted him. 

“Fancy seeing you ‘ere, Wally!” A distinctly Irish voice called. 

“Hey Shawn!” He replied, glancing around for the toymaker. 

“Over here.” A hand waved at him from behind a large machine. 

“I was just finishing up.” He said, standing up. 

“Them machines always gettin’ clogged, and I don’t be knowin’ why!” He complained loudly. Shawn was good at being loud, though Wally didn’t mind. 

“Sorry. I’d help, but I’m not the best with machines. Just ask Tommy!” 

“Heh, he’d have your head if he heard you callin’ him that.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wally grinned.

“But only when he’s not around, eh?” Said the Irishman, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well..” Wally shrugged sheepishly. Shawn held up a Bendy doll. 

“Like it?”  
“Aww!” Wally exclaimed.

“Can I see it?”  
“Sure,” he said, handing the plush toy over.

“These things are so cute. I wish I had one.”

“Well, I can give you one. Here.” Shawn pulled one out of a small box shoved off to the side. 

“These are the ones we can’t sell,” he explained, handing Wally the doll. 

“Thanks!” He smiled at Shawn before examining the toy. 

“The smile is crooked,” He observed. 

“Ah, so ya noticed the flaw. Yep. Mr. Drew really got mad ‘bout that one.” 

“Well, I like it. Thank you, Shawn.” 

“Not a problem! I’ll be heading out now, see ya!” Shawn said, grabbed his coat off a hook on the wall.

“See ya!”

~~~

An hour later, Wally had swept about half Heavenly Toys when he realized something.

“Great. I forgot my dustpan,” he said loudly, his voice echoing off the walls. With a sigh, he leaned his broom against the wall and started trudging up the stairs to the Music Department. His annoyance was well-deserved, as it was a good ten-minute walk. He was _ not _ about to take the elevator. 

Just as he opened the door leading into the Music Department, he noticed Sammy standing in front of the stairs leading to the exit. Wally was about to call out when he realized he was really just standing there, facing away from him, head cocked. Like he was listening. Then Wally heard it too. A muffled thumping sound, coming from the floor above. His mind raced. If Sammy were to investigate the noise, he’d go upstairs. And he was standing in the stairwell.

Wally sidestepped and stood behind the door. Just as he did so, Sammy groaned and turned, starting to walk towards him. He passed and started up the stairs without noticing Wally. 

Wally figured he was just investigating out of annoyance and/or irritation. Sammy usually wasn’t all that curious. Wally, on the other hand, was. As Sammy disappeared up the stairs, Wally quietly followed. They reached the first floor, and Wally stopped in his tracks when he saw Sammy standing in the middle of the hall, staring down another hallway into a room, a shocked expression on his face. 

“What the fu-“ Sammy was interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the halls. But it wasn’t Wally. 

“Crap.” Sammy dashed into the hallway he’d been staring into as the footsteps grew louder. Panicked, Wally opened the nearest door and darted into the L-shaped room, closing it behind him. He was in one of the offices. Moving as quietly as possible, he made his way to the other side of the room and around the corner. As he did so, he accidentally bumped one of the chairs. He grabbed it, keeping it from falling, and bit his tongue as the footsteps halted. He breathed a sigh of relief as they resumed down the hall. 

Wally stepped closer to the other door in the room. Rather than open it, he peeked through the crack between the door and the frame. And what he saw caused his breath to catch in his throat. 

First off, there was what looked like a real life version of Boris the Wolf strapped to an operating table. Secondly, Joey Drew was wearing bright yellow gloves, looking through an assortment of surgical tools, whilst talking to the living cartoon. It was muffled through the wall, but he could still make out what was being said. “Now, where were we? Oh, calm down, this won’t hurt.” Joey paused, then added, “Well, I suppose that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, Joey plunged a surgical knife in the toon’s chest. Wally recoiled in shock, covering his mouth to muffle the gasp. He backed away from the door, unwilling to see anything else. He felt like his stomach was doing somersaults. However, he didn’t leave just yet. He knew that would probably be a bad idea in the long term, but he couldn’t leave yet. What had happened to Sammy? There weren’t any other doors in that room, and there was nowhere to hide. Loud cracks came from the other room. Slowly, he approached the door again. There were bones sticking out of the toon’s chest, and Joey was pulling more out as ink spurted from his chest. 

Wally squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking around the room. He couldn’t see the entire area through the narrow crack in the door, but he knew the layout of almost every room in the studio like the back of his hand. There was nowhere to hide in that room, he was certain. So where was he? Slowly, his gaze shifted upward. That’s when he realized. Sammy had to be above Boris. There was a hole above the operating table, going how far into the ceiling he wasn’t sure. Above where the ceiling ended, the sides of the shaft were grates he just might be able to hold onto. Speaking of the operating table, what on earth was that doing there? He swore he’d never seen one of those things in the studio. Suddenly, Joey plunged his gloved hand into Boris’s chest. 

Wally turned away suddenly, feeling even more nauseous than before. He heard wet squelching from beyond the door and squeezed his eyes shut, trying with all his might not to throw up. He heard a satisfied, “Here we go! Now, don’t you go anywhere Boris!” Wally managed to open his eyes and take a deep breath as footsteps passed the office he was in. Steeling himself, he managed to peer through the door once more. 

This time, he saw Sammy climbing down from the hole in the ceiling. So he’d been right. There was no elation in this thought, simply a stating of the facts. 

“I’m sorry,” Sammy muttered. His entire body was shaking, probably from a mixture of shock and physical exertion, as in having to hold up his own bodyweight for nearly ten minutes. Sammy took a shaky breath and speed walked down the hall and out of sight. Wally walked at a normal pace to the other door, trying to calm his breathing. Maybe he should catch up with Sammy, let him know in some way that he’d seen it too, then they could get outta there together. Of course Wally knew it probably wouldn’t end up that well. He had a bad feeling about things to come. Nevertheless, he slowly opened the door and stepped into the hall. He was nearly to the main room, the one right in front of the exit, when he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.

“Hey Sammy, leaving so soon?” A cool voice asked. Joey. 

"Yeah. Finished my all songs before the deadline, they’re on your desk.” Sammy replied in an equal tone. 

“Ah, see? And you said they’d take a few more days! What did I tell you about belief?” Joey exclaimed. He could hear the grin in his voice. 

“How’d you get so covered in ink?”

“Oh-” Sammy paused, seemingly taken off guard. Then he followed with a sarcastic question.

“How do you think?”

“Well I figured it was a pipe, but there’s only a switch in your office, and you weren’t in that silly little back closet, so where were you?”

Without skipping a beat, Sammy calmly answered, “Wally seemed to have dropped his keys right outside my door, so I brought them to him on one of the lower levels. Pipe burst in one of the hallways while I was on my way back. The elevator took so long getting me back up that he’s probably already cleaned it all up.” He couldn’t believe how easily it was for Sammy to make all this stuff up on the spot. Wally was a terrible liar.

“Now, mind if I go get all this ink off my skin so I don’t end up in the hospital?” 

“Of course! Can’t have you getting sick, now, huh?” 

Another pause. Footsteps. Suddenly, a sound so loud and sudden it made Wally jump. _ Crap, _ he thought. _ Crap crap crap crap crap. _Wally bit his tongue as he heard a thump. Wally took a step backwards, then another, then turned and darted to the nearest door. It lead to a tiny little room that for some reason was used as an office instead of a closet. He shut the door silently, sat down on the chair, pulled his legs close to his chest, and wrapped one arm around his legs and put his other hand over his mouth. He closed his eyes tightly as possible as slow footsteps passed him, accompanied by the sound of dragging. He stayed in this position even as the footsteps faded and disappeared. He took ragged breaths as he placed a hand over his racing heartbeat, the raw terror coursing through him not permitting him to move an inch. 

~~~

Finally, Wally opened his eyes, stood up, and slowly cracked open the door. No one was there. He took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. Then, he slowly looked both ways. He knew which way the exit was. But he also knew which way Joey went. 

Gritting his teeth at the terrible decision he knew he’d regret later, he turned away from the direction of the exit and started slinking along the edge of the wall toward where Joey had gone. He knew he hadn’t gone down the other hall, which only left one room he could be in.

The Ink Machine room. Wally managed a glance into said room, and saw Sammy slumped in a chair, unconscious. Joey was nowhere to be seen. He turned down the hallway, deliberately turning several more times before entering a small room. It was adjacent to the Ink Machine room. If he’d gone any further down the main hall to The Ink Machine, he’d be a sitting duck with nowhere to hide. However, here he could get an idea as to what was going on, and hopefully do something before something happened to Sammy. Maybe make enough noise to distract Joey for a little bit. 

It was relatively quiet in the next room. Then, quiet conversation. Between Joey and… someone other than Sammy, he could tell that much. It was much too quiet for him to make out a single word. Then, it was quiet again. Suddenly, footsteps passed the room he was in, heading towards Boris’s… corpse. He turned his head to stare at the door, not daring to even breath. No one burst into the room though, so he breathed a quiet sigh of relief and turned back to the wall. Soon, he heard Sammy’s voice, sluggish and confused. Then angry. Then both him and Joey talking to each other, but Sammy still sounded extremely irate. Wally pressed his ear against the wall, struggling make out that they were saying. 

“My creation… life! … perfect though, so ... be done.”

“... _ murdered _ it?” Sammy spat in reply to Joey’s mad ravings. “... wasn’t _ perfect _?”

“Oh, relax...” Joey’s tone was somewhat annoyed. He continued.

“Enough… Thomas Connor?”

“...yes.” Sammy said after a moment. 

“Well, when... was doing, ... option. The same... give you.” 

“...?” He could tell it was posed as a cautious question by his tone.

“Either … or...” 

“Or?”

“Or ... Ink Machine. I’m still… the process, after all.”

There was a heavy pause.

“...not helping you.”

“Very well. Thomas … say in the matter, but because... Although... Ah well! What can be done? At least… what happened to Susie not ...” ‘What happened to Susie’? What? Wally frowned as he tried to decipher what was being said. There were sudden footsteps. Joey’s, he assumed.

“Wait!” Sammy blurted.

“What, … already?”

“Susie? What happened Susie? What did you do to her!?” Sammy demanded, his voice rising. 

“I gave her exactly what she wanted! I made her dreams come true! She didn’t believe enough, that was the only problem. Her fault, not mine!” Joey’s voice was rising as well, though it wasn't in anger like Sammy’s. “What. Did. You. Do!?” Sammy grunted, accompanied by sounds that suggested he was trying to move the chair he was strapped in. 

“She told … with Alice. That ... a part of her... desperate. So I… bring Alice to life… you think she said?” He asked in a low voice. Wally could barely hear them. But what he could make out only served to confuse him more. Was Susie okay, or not? Now that he'd thought about it, he hadn't seen her since that night.

“She said yes!” Joey shouted. “So I used The Machine to make her dreams come true! And they do, dreams do come true!” He finally lowered his voice once more, but not low enough that Wally couldn’t hear. 

“Although, maybe not for you.”

Suddenly, there was the sound of a lever being pulled. Pipes started to rumble, ink flowing through them once again since The Machine had been turned off for the night. 

Then Wally’s eyes widened in alarm. He heard a shout. A cry of pain that turned into a drawn-out, agonized groan. Then something that made his blood run cold. Sammy started to gag and retch uncontrollably. There were words in there too, almost like he was pleading, but it was indiscernible. That wasn’t like Sammy at all. Wally’s overactive imagination was envisioning all kinds of scenarios as to what was happening, but he had a bad feeling in his gut that what was truly happening was far worse. He wanted to do something, but he couldn’t move. He was completely paralyzed by fear, his body not responding to his brain’s desperate pleas to run. Finally, the gagging was slowly reduced to gurgles, then there was silence. The Machine was turned off. 

Finally, it was like the flip of a switch, and he could move again. He stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own two feet. 

“I-I’m outta here,” he managed shakily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Slowly shakes head* Wally, Wally, Wally. Didn't ya know that curiosity killed the cat? Let alone the janitor.


	6. A Friendly Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that overlaps a lot with my other story. And if you've read my other story, you might just have an idea about what's about to happen.

_ No way, _ he thought in disbelief. He patted his pockets again, almost desperately.  _ This cannot be happening.  _ Then pulled at the handle of the exit, though he knew it was no use. 

_ The Music Department! There’s another exit in the Music Department! _ Taking a deep breath, he turned and dashed down the hallway. Screw stealth at this point, he just needed to get outta there. As he turned into the hallway leading to the stairwell, he skidded to a stop, nearly tripping in his haste.

“You seem to be in a hurry, Wally. Why, is something wrong?” Joey asked, armed crossed one eyebrow raised. Wally didn’t bother to answer. With his heart pounding and adrenaline pumping, the only thing in his mind was getting to safety. Getting to see his family again. And right now, this murderous lunatic that was his boss was in his way. 

Wally charged forward and pushed past Joey, who seemed caught off guard at this. He slammed the door to the stairwell opened and took the stairs four at a time. He was at the Music Department before he realized he wasn’t being chased. However, as he turned in the direction of the exit, he heard footsteps. He paused. Should he just go for it anyway? It has to be someone other than Joey, but what if they were working together? He finally decided not to risk it. He’d just hide in an office until they passed, then leave quicker than he could say ‘I’m outta here.’ 

He turned and darted down the hallway, trying the knobs as he went. He ignored the Infirmary. Down there there was nowhere to hide, no doors to lock. The two other doors were locked. Finally, he reached the end of the hall, where Sammy’s office was.  _ Or… Sammy’s  _ old  _ office _ . He thought, another wave of nausea washing over him. He wished he knew what happened to him. Sammy may have been a grouch most of the time, but he wasn’t all that bad. Even if he yelled at Wally a lot. As Wally was lost in thought, he didn’t bother to glance through the window in the office. Wasn’t like there was anyone there, anyway. 

However, he seemed to have been very, very wrong. 

Wally closed the door behind him and glanced upward, then his hand flew to his mouth to stifle his gasp. But he wasn’t quiet enough, as the  _ thing _ that was sitting at Sammy’s desk whirled around to stare at him. 

Wally scrambled backward, tripped and landed on his bottom, his eyes wide and mouth gaping open. He couldn’t even bring himself to move as he stared at what he was seeing. It-it looked like a  _ man _ covered in ink, but that wasn’t it. It was more like  _ made of _ ink, lacking all defining facial features. Then it opened it’s mouth.

“Who-” The word was raspy and hoarse, but the thing cleared his throat and continued.

“Who are you?” He asked, seemingly wary. 

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head as he placed the oh-so-familiar voice.

“Son of a nutcracker, Sammy, is that you?” Wally asked, now more shocked than frightened. He frowned.

“Yes, I think so anyway, but why does everyone seem to know my name? I’ve never seen you before in my life.” 

Now he was just confused.

“Seriously? You don’t know who I am? I’m Wally! We’ve worked together for years! I’m the janitor that you find annoying, forgetful and clumsy, even though only one of those things is true!” He blurted, hoping to see some form of recollection in his expression. He was met by a blank stare.

“Sorry, I... I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.” His face fell. He knew he shouldn’t be disappointed by something like that in this situation, but he was. 

“But I didn’t even know my own name until a little while ago.”

Wally smiled.

“Well, at least it isn’t because I was too boring then!” He grinned. Then, finally picking himself up off the ground, he took a step forward to examine Sammy. It was now that he noticed he only had four fingers, and he didn’t exactly have feet...

“Jumping Jehoshaphat, what happened to you?” Sammy have him a half-shrug. 

“I don’t really know. I just kind of...” He trailed off. Wally noticed this hesitation, but he ignored it.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say a pipe burst right over ya or somethin’! But…” Wally hesitated. He did know better. “There’s something I need to tell you... I heard-”

Suddenly, he remembered exactly who was searching for him at the moment. 

“Joey! Joey’s gonna find me!” He blurted, his eyes widening and breathing speeding up again. 

“Who?” Asked Sammy, taken aback by his sudden outburst. 

“Joey-flippin-Drew. Formally worst boss of the year, currently a lunatic who wants my head!” He replied, glancing around the room as a shiver went down his spine.

“Why?” 

“It’s about what I was gonna say earlier. I heard... I heard him do something to ya, ok?” Wally was trembling now. 

“A-And I ran into him and h-he-“ 

As Wally stammered, Sammy suddenly looked to the left, through the window, then he grabbed Wally by the collar and pulled him roughly to the floor.

“Ow, dag nabbit why w-” Sammy put his hand over Wally’s mouth. Wally pushed it away, spitting at the rancid taste of ink, but he kept quiet. 

Sammy hissed something under his breath, but Wally wasn’t sure if he was muttering to himself or talking to him.

“What?” 

“Is. The. Door. Locked.”

Wally shook his head.

“Do you have keys? You said you were a janitor.” Sammy inquired, slightly louder than before. Wally rolled his eyes at the reminder, then remembered that Sammy didn’t have the best memory at the moment. He pressed his lips together and just shook his head. Sammy let out a frustrated growl. 

“Does this door lock from the outside or the inside?” 

“The inside, you refused to work in a room you couldn’t lock from the inside because, ya know, interruptions.” Wally replied quietly, casting a brief glance up at the window above them. What had Sammy seen?

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Huffed Sammy as he crept toward the door, staying under the window. Reaching the door, he reached up and locked it. 

When Wally was just about to ask what what going on, Sammy asked yet another question. 

“Wally, does he have keys?” 

“Who, Joey? Probably.” Why wouldn’t he have keys? He owned the flipping studio. Oh. Was that who was coming down the hallway?

“Damn it,” cursed Sammy. Wally gave him a disapproving look. He didn’t even mean to, just second nature to him. 

“Really? Do we really have ti-” It was Wally’s turn to shush Sammy as the sound of footsteps grew nearer. He heard the jingle of keys, then a door open. His closet, by the sound of it.

“Wally, get up and pull the desk in front of the door.” Sammy said quickly. 

“What if he sees me?!”

“Would you rather him waltz right in? I’d help, but I have no idea if he knows I’ve escaped, so I can’t let him see me. Hurry!” Wally complied, quickly getting to his feet and beginning to drag the heavy desk across the room. He glanced in the direction of the window, then refocused his attention of moving the desk. 

“That’s Joey alright.” Wally said through gritted teeth. Joey had been moving around the larger things in his closet, presumably to check for him. He closed the closet and turned, making eye contact with Wally. “Crap, he sees me.” 

Sammy let out a groan before jumping up and getting behind the desk to help push. Dang was that thing heavy. They got it in front of the door right as Joey finished unlocking it. He pounded the door angrily for several seconds, but the desk didn’t budge. He probably wouldn’t admit it, but Sammy had some pretty swell ideas. Joey stepped in front of the window and began saying something, but neither Wally nor Sammy could hear a thing. Sammy’s office was still as soundproof as the day he’d seen Sammy and Susie talking. Gosh, that felt like forever ago.

Wally suddenly had an idea. Maybe not a particularly smart idea, but there was no way he wasn’t going to do it. Grinning, he pointed at his ear, then shrugged, continuing to smirk at Joey. His face turned beet red, which to be honest was pretty dang funny. He pounded a fist on the glass before turning and stomping down the hallway. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest to taunt the guy that was literally trying to kill you, but it sure was fun. 

“Now what?” Wally asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

“We don’t have much time before he comes back.” Sammy said, still staring down the empty hallway.

“Well he couldn’t get in the first time, what makes you think he can—”

“With help, you moron.” Sammy grumbled. 

“Oh.” Duh. “That makes sense. So where we gonna hide then? He knows we’re here.”

“Again, we don’t have much time. Help me move the desk.” They shoved the desk out of the way and Sammy opened the door. 

“Well, you’re the one that knows your way around.” Sammy said. He stepped to the side, allowing Wally to go first. “After you.”

“What?! I don’t wanna go first! What if we run into Joey??” He protested probably a bit louder than he should have. He knew he sounded childish, but couldn’t help himself.

“First, keep your voice down! Second, I don’t know my way around here! I have no idea how I managed to find my office in the first place.” 

“Fine. How about we go the band room closet? You liked to work there before…” he paused. “You know.” Sammy thought about it. 

“It’s a closet? We need someplace that isn’t a dead end. Preferably an exit.” 

“Guess you’re right,” Wally admitted. “Well hey, there’s some stairs to an exit just at the end of this hall. Should we go for ‘em?” 

“They sound pretty close, but that’s exactly where I’d wait if I were Joey.” 

“Do we have a choice?” Asked Wally.

“Guess not... We’re going to have to be fast.”

“Sounds about right, stay close old man.”

Sammy was taken aback.

“Huh? I don’t even-“

Wally took off running down the hallway. Calling Sammy old would always get on his nerves, and even if he didn’t remember how many times he’d done it before, didn’t have any idea, just a bit of familiarity was always nice. There were loud, squishy-sounding footsteps that suggested Sammy was following.

They made it to the stairs without incident. It was rather dark, though. As they were walking down the stairs, Wally suddenly stepped in six inch deep ink. The stuff seeped through his shoes and socks, both of which were already stained anyway. The main issue was that now his feet were drenched in ink, and who knows how long they’d take to dry? 

“Sufferin’ succotash, this dad gum ink can go suck eggs!” Wally spat.

“Wow, Wally. Wow.” Sammy snorted derisively.

“Shut your pie hole. The stairs are flooded.” Wally rolled his eyes.

“Are you really going to let three feet of ink keep you from-“

“Getting outta here? Not a chance.” Wally finished, taking another step forward. Now it was up to his calves.

“Hurry,” urged Sammy.

“I’m goin, I’m goin.” Wally said, annoyed. There was a splash behind, and a sudden gasp of pain. He turned in time to see Sammy collapse on the stairs. He stepped toward him and crouched down.

“Sammy.” He didn’t move. Without a second thought, Wally grabbed him by the arms and pulled him out of the ink. His hands came back covered in ink, but he could only tell by the wet feeling on his skin as he didn’t even bother to glance at them before repeating his name. 

“Sammy!” Sammy opened his eyes and gasped again. Wally was relieved, but concerned.

“Sammy, you ok? What happened?”

“I-” his voice was rough, hoarse. He swallowed.

“I don’t know. But I clearly can’t leave that way.”

“Well c’mon then, let’s find a different exit.” He reached out a hand to help Sammy up.

“Wally, there’s no reason for you to not leave. I’ll be fine, but you need to leave before Joey finds you.” Sammy said, not moving to take his hand. He looked as though he was in pain. Wally frowned.

“I ain’t leaving without you.” 

“Listen, you have to trust me. I’ll be ok. You need to leave. Please, Wally.” Sammy insisted. Wally opened his mouth to reiterate his previous statement, but was cut off. 

“There you are, Wally! And Sammy, too! This must be my lucky day!” Wally shot straight up, finding himself staring into the eyes of Joey Drew.


	7. Quite a Bit of Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write. Heh.

“Wally,” Sammy said under his breath, staring at the figure standing at the top of the stairs.

“Get to the exit and leave. I’ll take care of Drew.”

“I can’t-”

“Don’t argue, Wally.” Sammy said firmly. “Get outta here.” Wally reluctantly complied, turning and stepping into the ink-flooded stairwell. A glance backward showed that Sammy was slowly getting off the ground, eyes trained on Joey. Then, Joey’s loud, charismatic voice echoed in the stairwell.

“Well now Sammy, you and Wally seem to be getting along for once! Ha, maybe I even did you a favor-” He was cut off by a furious Sammy.

“Don’t! Just don’t!” Sammy spat. “You-you turned me into THIS! You’re the reason I’m like this!” He could hear Sammy stomping up the stairs. The ink was up to his waist when he finally reached the bottom. He started moving forward, though it was so hard to walk in the stuff.

“What makes you say that?” Joey asked, seemingly amused. 

“Wally told me everything! He-”

“And how do you know that anything he told you is true?” He heard Sammy’s footsteps pause. He really hoped he wasn’t falling for this. Joey may be a smooth talker, but his lies were downright preposterous sometimes. Although Sammy’s memory clearly wasn’t the best in the world right now. He finally reached the door, but a quick turn of the handle confirmed what he’d been worried about. 

“How do you know he isn’t… a liar?” Joey continued slowly. Wally snorted at this, momentarily forgetting the dire situation. Him? Liar? Sheesh. Joey on the other hand… Sammy seemed to read his mind. 

“No… You’re the liar.” 

Wally finally decided to pipe up.

“I, uh, don’t want to interrupt, but the door’s locked.” Joey seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“Of course it is! You really think I’d-”

“Do you ever shut up?” growled Sammy as he bounded up the stairs two at a time. He’d never forget the look on Joey’s face when Sammy barreled into him. They moved backward, Wally unable to see what was going on from the bottom of the stairs. He moved forward as fast as he could, which obviously wasn’t all that fast as he was still nearly waist-deep in thick black sludge. He heard a loud splat and Sammy reeled backwards, nearly falling down the stairs. He caught himself at the last second and glanced back at him. He turned back toward Joey just in time to duck as Joey swung a pipe at him. Joey swung again, this time Sammy grabbed the pipe and shoved Joey, _ hard _. 

“Wally, come on! I don’t know how long I can keep this up.” Sammy all but panted. Wally didn’t think twice before dashing up the stairs and into the room, veering toward the stairs that lead up. He glanced back just in time to see Joey shove Sammy and swing the pipe toward his skull. He turned and sprinted up the stairs. Whatever the outcome, he knew he didn’t have much time. 

He reached the first floor and bolted through the halls. Darting into the first office he saw, started opening drawers, scattering papers in his desperate search for keys. 

“Crud muffins,” he spat, slamming the last one shut when his search remained fruitless. He turned, sprinting into the hall once more. He had just enough time to yelp as he collided with Thomas Connor, his momentum sending them both tumbling to the floor. Wally pushed himself into a sitting position, Thomas doing the same. They stared at each other for a long moment, Wally trying to catch his breath. Thomas was here after hours, and there was no way he hadn’t seen what was going on. And since he wasn’t trying to get out of the studio, that could only mean one thing… 

Wally froze in shock, eyes widening as he realized this. Thomas glanced down at the pipe in his hand. He was clenching it so hard his knuckles turned white. Then he took a deep breath and stood up. Then, to Wally’s surprise and immense relief, he turned and started walking past him and down a hall. As Wally scrambled to his feet, he heard a jingle. He turned. There was a keyring on the floor, and Thomas was nowhere to be seen. 

He slowly stepped toward them. Thomas had to be working with Joey, he _ had _ to be. And yet… He picked up the keys. _ Maybe he isn’t helping Joey willingly _, he thought. He had heard Joey mention his name while talking to Sammy, even though he couldn’t tell what they were talking about exactly. He looked at the keys, and sure enough, one said ‘EX’ for exit. The rest were labeled accordingly, such as ‘JC’ for janitor’s closet and ‘AO’ for animator offices. He held the one for the exit tightly. He didn’t want to have to fumble for it at the last second. He started toward the exit, moving slowly and peeking around corners before turning, so hopefully he’d see Joey before Joey saw him, and he could hide accordingly. It was a good plan, at least he thought so anyway. He crept along the side of the wall and reached another hallway that split off. He turned his body and carefully poked his head out from behind the wall and into the hallway. It was clear, and he was getting closer to the exit. 

Just as he stepped into the hallway, an arm wrapped around Wally’s throat. His hands shot up, dropping the keys, and grabbed the arm as he struggled. Vainly, he tried to kick at the person behind him, beating a hand against the arm that held him, but the person didn’t even flinch, let alone release the terrible, crushing pressure on his throat. There was a writhing knot that formed in his stomach, an amalgamation of anger, confusion, and terror that spurred his flailing fists and feet, even though it seemed to do nothing to whoever was holding him. With every second that ticked by, his body grew colder, weaker, harder to control.

By the sound of the heavy breathing behind him, it was a man. Thomas? Or Joey? Whoever it was, it was a one-sided struggle, really, as he was already weakening from the lack of oxygen. His vision started to swim and darken at the edges, growing deeper with every passing moment. With a sudden spike of raw terror, Wally was suddenly aware that he was going to _ die _, and he could barely even put up a fight anymore, try as he might. 

“You and Sammy have been causing me quite a bit of trouble,” a voice from behind him chided. Joey.

Wally opened his mouth to speak, heck, maybe even plead, but nothing came out. He couldn’t make a sound. His grasping fingers started to slip away, losing their grip, and he was too weak to try again. Slowly, everything started to grow far away. The pain, the fear, everything…

He vaguely felt himself being lowered to the ground as the darkness finally overtook him.


	8. The Extent of His Madness

When Wally came to, he noticed things in stages. One thing at a time, his brain still foggy and confused. The first thing he noticed was the hard floor under him, and that something was digging into his back. His dull, throbbing headache that didn’t really come from any one part of his head. That his wrists were sore and his mouth was dry. He opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. Everything was dark. This alone was enough to cause him to panic, but he forced the feeling down as he tried to figure out what was going on. His initial thought had been wrong. Not quite everything was dark. There was a narrow rectangle of light on the floor in front of him. He focused on it, trying to figure out what it was. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was light flooding through the small space under a door. 

Where was he? What was going on? He tried to move, only to find that he couldn’t. Something was holding him back. He tried again, this time realized what it was. His hands were tied behind his back. And his hands were tied to something else, something solid and unmoving. He shifted his weight to figure out what he was leaning against, what was digging into his back. He figured it had to be a desk.

All during this, his heartbeat had been speeding up. The last thing he remembered was… trying to leave the studio. Because… he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to remember. The headache was awfully distracting. Because... of what he’d seen! What’d happened to Sammy! How was he not dead? He’d thought for sure he had been going to die. His heart pounded. He doubted anyone would come, but he had to try. As he opened his mouth to shout for help, it was then he realized something was stopping him from doing so. There was a wad of cloth in his mouth, acting as a gag. Part of him couldn’t believe he’d only just noticed it, but then again his mouth was so dry his tongue felt like sandpaper. 

Wally struggled against the ropes, but they held fast. He extended his legs and they touched the door. He moved them right and left, and they made contact with the walls. So he had to be in a closet of some sort. He moved his hands again. There was no way he could untie them behind his back, but if he could get his hands in front of him… It was worth a try. He squirmed, trying to get his arms under his bottom and past his legs, pushing himself up on the desk as he did so. It helped that he had long arms. After about ten minutes of effort, his hands were in front of him. Still tied to the leg of the desk, so his body was awkwardly facing in the corner between the wall and desk, but it wasn’t like it mattered. Wally took the thick ropes between his teeth and started trying to chew through them. If he’d had some light he might be able to untie them using his teeth, but the sliver of light from the door wasn’t enough to illuminate the closet even slightly. After another ten minutes, he was nearly through one of the ropes. If only they weren’t so thick! 

Suddenly there was a creak and the room was bathed in a blinding light. Wally turned, ending up adjacent to the wall as his hands were still tied, and saw that the door had been opened. He blinked as his eyes adjusted.

“Well it’s about time! I was starting to think you’d be asleep all night!” Joey’s voice seemed too loud after the stuffy silence, only aggravating his headache. He opened his mouth, but he was still gagged. Despite this, he had a thousand questions.

“You must have questions.” It was like he read his mind.

“You always do!” Joey shook his head.

“So, where do you want to start?” He asked, stepping into the room. Wally just gaped as Joey closed the door behind him, stepped over, and pulled the gag out of his mouth. He swallowed, part of him wishing he could have a drink of water, as Joey casually sat down in a chair in the corner, one he hadn’t noticed before.

“Are you gonna kill me?” He winced at how hoarse his voice was. Joey seemed thoughtful, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms.

“Ah, straight to the point, are we? Well, that’s a hard one. Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“On if you’re… cooperative. The Machine isn’t ready yet after Sammy, but I’m sure you know all about that, hmm?” He could feel the color drain from his face as he mentioned Sammy. He dared to ask another question. Joey had welcomed them, hadn’t he?

“W-What did you do to him?” He asked, his voice shaking. Joey let out a deep sigh.

“I suppose I should explain everything. You deserve to know.” He sighed, saying this in a slightly ashamed way. No, he couldn’t possibly be… He certainly  _ seemed _ sincere, but there was no way. Not after what he’d seen.

“The Ink Machine- MY Ink Machine is supposed to bring the cartoon characters to life. Ah-ah, no interrupting. We have plenty of time for questions later,” he said when Wally opened his mouth to speak. He shut it again and Joey continued.

“It would make these very cartoons literally come to life!” He said, gesturing to a poster on the wall. It was of Boris. 

“The very first attempt, well. It didn’t go so well. It was supposed to be Bendy, but it came out  _ wrong. _ ” He sounded disappointed, his face portraying exactly that.

“An abomination. Then I figured out what was missing.” His eyes lit up, but there was a gleam of something underneath the mask of happiness. Wally studied his face as he spoke.

“What makes you really alive! What makes you, you! The soul.” He gave Wally a wide grin. 

“Where can I get one of those, you ask? Well, the studio’s full of them!” Did that mean…?

“But even then, things  _ still  _ don't go perfectly every time. Take Sammy for instance. He didn’t look like much of a toon, now did he?” Wally shook his head, wondering if the ‘no interrupting’ rule was still in effect. 

“It’s ‘cause the ink consumed his soul.” Joey said this so casually that Wally almost thought he’d heard him wrong. 

“He’s a part of it now, like a lot of the others.” 

“Hold up,” Wally said, not able to keep his mouth shut any longer. “How many people have you killed?” His fear, though still very much there, was making way for a burning anger. 

“Sheesh, I didn’t kill anyone. They aren’t dead. They just… aren’t exactly alive either. Most of them aren’t all that right in the head. Don’t really know how it works. But sometimes, you just gotta do what you gotta do to make your dreams come true.” Joey paused, then added, “Hey, I should use that. People eat that stuff up!” Wally shut his eyes so Joey wouldn’t see the hatred there. It was now that he realized the true extent of Joey's madness.

“What are you gonna do with me?” Joey let out another sigh. 

“No, of course you don’t have any questions about The Machine, or how it works, or any of the  _ pure genius _ behind it, no. It’s all about me, me, me. You’re rather selfish, you know that?” He snapped irritably. Wally opened his eyes as Joey spoke, rather taken aback.   
“Well, since you insist. Ideally, you’d help me. Do you know about Thomas Connor?” Wally knew exactly what he was referring to. He gave a slow nod.   
“Well, he’s helping me, too. I didn’t give him much of a choice, but I am giving you one.” 

“What’s the alternative?” He feared he already knew the answer.   
“Like I said, The Machine isn’t exactly ready. However, just killing you would be… a waste.” He was staring at Wally, and Wally could tell exactly what he was saying.   
“So you’d just keep me around ‘til it  _ was _ ready?” 

“Exactly!” He exclaimed, giving him a wide smile. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“Thanks,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Well-!” He said sharply, clapping his hands together and standing up suddenly. The sudden movement startled Wally.

“I’ll give you a little bit to think about it! And-” He gave Wally’s hands a disapproving look. 

“Don’t try to escape. Otherwise I might be tempted to figure out what would happen if I used a  _ child _ for The Machine.” He spoke deliberately, giving him an intense stare as he closed the door. Wally’s breath caught in his throat. His siblings. They were at home at this time of night. Did Joey know where he lived? Of course he did, it was standard information for an employer to have. He moved his head back sharply, hitting the wall hard. Why did he have to be such an idiot? He banged his head against the wall again.

The door opened again, causing Wally to freeze and stare. He’d expected Joey, but no. It was Thomas Connor. He stepped into the room. He had a bunch of rope attached to one of his belt loops. Thomas didn’t say a word as he pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket and flicked it open. Wally couldn’t help it, he started  _ trembling. _ It wasn’t solely from what was happening in that moment, it was equal parts exhaustion and fear for his siblings, plus all this.  _ Now _ what was going on? 

Thomas seemed to pick up on his posture, on his wide-eyes staring at the knife in his hand. He glanced over Wally, then sighed. He stepped forward, now standing right over him. Then he raised his hand, the empty one, and made a gesturing motion. Wally wasn’t sure what he wanted. Finally, Thomas opened his mouth.

  
“Your hands,” he said gruffly. Wally looked down at his hands, noticing now that the rope was extremely frayed from his little escape attempt. He lifted them as much as the little slack between his hands and the desk leg allowed him to, and Thomas crouched down and grabbed them. Wally tensed slightly as Thomas sliced through the tight ropes. He rubbed his sore hands in relief, but Thomas wasn’t done. 

“Your feet,” he prompted. Wally frowned and looked down, then back up at Thomas.

“It’s just for a few hours,” Thomas confided, his voice softening. Wally gave him a nod and Thomas began tying his feet together, however he left nearly a foot of rope between his feet. Enough for him to move around, not enough for him to move at a significant speed. Wally took a deep breath. Thomas gave him a curt nod and straightened, then left the room. 

Wally didn’t move for a few moments, continuing to rub his wrists. Finally, he pulled himself up using the desk and got to his feet and stretched, several joints popping. Of course, the first thing he did after that was try the door. He hadn’t expected it to be unlocked. He was right. Now he could probably have managed to untie his feet if he tried. He could probably find some way to smash the doorknob, rendering the lock useless and allowing him to escape. But… What then? What about his siblings, at home under Emma’s care? With a sigh, he grabbed the chair and pulled it over to the desk and sat down. And he did what Joey had left him to do. Think. 

But he didn't really had a choice, did he? 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the door opened again.

“Well Wally, have you decided?” Wally let out a sigh. Then he turned. And he nodded. And he gave his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably my favorite chapter to write. If you have questions make sure you ask them in the comments and I'll reply probably within a day or so.


	9. You Should Have Left When You Had The Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't been posting much lately. School's been nuts, my parents ordered the wrong curriculum for me (I'm homeschooled), so now I'm three weeks behind in several classes. So yeah. Updates are probably going to be slow for a little while. This chapter's a shorter one, but I figured I should post *something*.

Joey gave him a wide grin. 

“I knew you’d make the right decision! Now,” he glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s about an hour until the animators will get here. And another hour until you’re scheduled to start. Until then, well, you never finished cleaning the lower levels, did you?” Wally gave him a nod, eyes trained on the floor. 

“No, too busy snooping. No matter! You can get to that in a few minutes. First, there’s a few things we need to go over.” Joey said.

“What’s that?” He asked hesitantly, glancing up at him.

“Why, rules of course! First off, and this one is a given, you do whatever I say, no questions asked.” Wally swallowed hard and nodded.

“Second, you aren’t to tell anyone about this, or you know what happens.” Joey was giving him an intense stare, and Wally avoided meeting his gaze, opting to look at the floor again instead.

“That means _ anyone _. If you try to warn someone, well, you know what’ll have to happen to them. And you wouldn’t want to be responsible for that, now would you?” Wally shook his head. 

“Good! You can head home at the regular time unless I specifically say so. Of course, it goes without saying that you have to come back.” Joey chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back against the closed door. 

“But I shouldn’t even have to say that, should I?” 

“No sir,” he said, shaking his head again.

“There we go! You’re getting it. Oh, and one more thing. You won’t _ just _ be cleaning and such now, you’ll also be helping Tom with the machines and engineering stuff! Speaking of, he’ll be in here in a moment to take care of that,” he said, nodding toward his feet. 

“Couldn’t take chances, you know? I’m glad you decided not to try anything stupid, though! Wouldn’t have worked out well for anyone.” As he said this he turned and opened the door. He stepped out without closing it. Wally stared in confusion for a few moments before Thomas stepped in, pocket knife in hand. Without a word and without meeting Wally’s gaze, he crouched down and cut the rope from his feet. Wally wasn’t sure what to say, or even if he _ should _ say something. What was one supposed to say in this situation? Thomas stood up, paused for a moment, then broke the silence.

“You should have left when you had the chance,” he said with a hint of an emotion Wally couldn’t quite decipher. Bitterness? Jealousy? Then Thomas turned and left without another word. He stared at the spot he’d just been standing.

“Yeah, I know,” Wally murmured to himself. 

~~~

Wally stood in front of the door to his apartment, exhausted. Which was understandable, considering all that had happened that day. In addition to all the usual cleaning, apparently the Ink Machine room, and The Machine itself, was being renovated. He hadn’t seen the plans for it, but it would be a huge project, and Joey aimed to finish it in under a month. So in short, he’d be busy. 

He finally turned the doorknob and stepped into the dark room. He was pleasantly surprised to not be tackled by Bear the instant he crossed the threshold. He flicked the light switch, the small lamp in the corner flickering to life, and he saw why. Emma was asleep on the cough, Bear on her lap. The Burmese Mountain dog was looking at him with big brown eyes, tail wagging just slightly. It looked like she had one of Andrew’s shirts in her lap, which was under Bear at the moment, and a needle was hanging off the edge of the couch by a thread that was being used to patch up a hole. 

A small smile crossed his face, probably the first one that day. He walked over quietly and pulled the shirt out from under Bear, silently apologizing, and picked up the needle. He set the shirt on the end table next to the couch, placing the needle carefully on top of it. 

Then he scratched Bear on the top of his head. Bear leaned into it, his tail wagging harder. 

“Hmmm…? Wally? That you?” Emma mumbled, opening her eyes groggily. 

“Shh, yeah, it’s me. Go back to sleep.” He said. She shook her head.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was waiting for you.” She sounded more awake now.

“Sorry, I-“ 

“You didn’t come home at all last night. The kids were worried.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She asked sternly. 

“I just… I…” he stumbled over his words. He hated lying, he hated it. Let alone to his sister. He’d been doing enough of it all day, people asking him if he was alright, why he was here early and whatnot, but lying to his sister? To Emma? He swallowed. He had to. He could tell her the truth, she’d believe him. He knew she would. But Emma wasn’t the type to just sit around. She’d want to do something. And that would only put her in danger.

“I had to clean up a big ink spill,” he managed. He could tell by her face that she didn’t believe him. 

“Are you sure?” He gave Emma a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, a massive one. I’m really tired.” She looked unconvinced.

“You know I can tell when something’s wrong. And…” she hesitated. “And you know you can trust me, right? That you can tell me anything?” Wally shut his eyes for a moment. The guilt was making stomach was doing flips, eating him up from the inside. He nodded and opened his eyes.

“Of course I know that! I would tell you if something was really the matter. I just had a long day.” He forced out. Emma pursed her lips together, but didn’t press the subject. Wally breathed an internal sigh of relief. 

“Well, we should both probably get to bed, huh?” He asked, glancing at the clock. Emma nodded, then looked down at Bear.

“Can’t exactly move though,” she chuckled. Wally shook his head.

“No, that’d be just cruel. Well, you’re sleeping on the couch then. Night!” He gave a wave over his shoulder and he started walking toward the bedroom. 

“Wally! Get back here and help me!” Emma laughed. Wally turned back and put his hands on his hips. 

“I couldn’t move Bear if I tried! He weighs like two hundred pounds!” At least the current situation was helping keep his mind off the events of the previous two days. 

“Yeah right. He’s not anywhere near that fat.” She scoffed. 

“Ah, guess you’re right. But I still can’t move him! What do you want me to do?”

“Call him? Throw his toy? Come on, Wally.” Wally rolled his eyes. 

“Alrighty then.” He bent over and picked up a braided rope toy with frayed ends. 

“Bear! C’mere boy!” Bear’s head shot up, the rest of his body quickly following as he bounded off of Emma and tried to jump on Wally. He tossed the toy to the other side of the room just in time. Bear did a 180, claws scrabbling on the wood floor, then tried to stop himself from running into the wall. It didn’t work. Emma and Wally were both laughing so hard that they seemed to have forgotten the previous tense moment, but Wally hadn’t really. Sure, he was _ trying _to, but it was still in the back of his mind, nagging and reminding him that he had lied to his sister and agreed to help a madman. When the laughter finally fizzled out, Wally realized how tired he was. That he hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. He yawned loudly.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Emma asked. It was like she read his mind. He shook his head.

“Wally, that job is taking too much out of you. You’re hardly home and get hardly any sleep.”

“Yeah, well, _ somebody _ has to make money,” he said, though a bit harsher than he meant to. 

“It isn’t her fault she’s sick,” Emma practically snapped. The tension was rising again, and they could both feel it. 

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.” He apologized with a sigh.

“Now, I’m going to bed. You need to too.” Emma sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, sorry. Guess we’re both tired, huh?” Wally nodded, turning and heading into the bedroom, hearing the couch springs creak as Emma stood up. He wished with all his heart that being tired was the only thing wrong right then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that I really admire Emma? Wally may be the one working, but she's got to deal with I-can't-remember-how-many siblings (getting them to school and homework and dinner), she's got to do the housework, and she has to take care of their mother. Don't know if I made that clear in previous chapters. Now that I think about it, I unintentionally made Emma extremely similar to my best friend. Maybe that's why I like her so much. I didn't.... I didn't even mean for that to happen. Whoops?


	10. Announcement

Alright. 

So I haven't updated the story in months. That's mostly because I lost inspiration with it after Dreams Came to Life came out. If you've read it, you probably know why, but if you haven't, I won't spoil it. I just have literally no inspiration for it, and haven't had any for weeks. This story will most likely be on permanent hiatus. At some point in the future it's possible that I continue it, maybe change some major stuff, but probably not. I want to apologize to anyone who's been keeping up with it and waiting for another chapter, and thank you for your comments. Again, I'm really sorry.


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